Midnight Council
by Chika-chan
Summary: Don't ask, don't even ask. Just know that this is OliverHarry fluffysappyness and you should not read if you don't like boyboy relationships. Other than that, enjoy! Oh, and be happy it's a one-shot.


All right . I was re-reading my other Harry/Oliver, and decided that I couldn't really bear to continue it, having no ideas for the second chapter. So, this is taking its place.  
  
Pairing: Oliver/Harry (implied towards the end, at any rate)  
  
Setting: It takes place during the third book, after they've won the Quidditch Cup.  
  
Enjoy!  
  
1 Midnight Council  
  
Harry was still beside himself with happiness. Just five hours before; perhaps a bit less than that, perhaps a little longer, (he'd lost count) he had won the Quidditch cup. It was the first time the Gryffindor house had won since Ron's older brother Charlie had been captain. He grinned, staring up at the stars from his window, remembering how Oliver and McGonagall had sobbed and how Fred and George had hugged him so tightly he felt like he was going to explode. Of course he remembered how Angelina, Alicia, and Katie had also kissed him, but for some reason they didn't seem as important as Oliver's reaction of holding him close and sobbing onto his shoulder.  
  
Then again . I wasn't really focusing on anything, he sighed, just how happy I was. I don't think I've ever been held like that by anyone. Yeah, that must be it. I just wanted to be hugged.  
  
Harry hugged his knees tighter to his chest as a cold night wind blew through the open window for warmth. He had tried everything to get sleep; counting sheep, singing lullabies in his head, but had finally given up and was now trying to count the stars over head. That wasn't really working either, but it was his last option besides going to Madam Pomfrey for a sleeping potion, something he didn't really want to do.  
  
"Harry?"  
  
Nearly falling off the windowsill, Harry snapped his head around and came face-to-face with none other than Oliver Wood.  
  
"What're you doing here?" Oliver asked kindly.  
  
"Couldn't sleep."  
  
"Still on a happy-high from today's game?"  
  
"Yeah," Harry grinned.  
  
"Understandable, I feel the same way," Oliver grinned back and pointed to the space next to Harry, "May I?"  
  
Quickly scooting over and nodding quickly, Harry fought to contain the blush that he felt spreading across his cheeks.  
  
My god, what's wrong with me? It's just Oliver! I've been closer to him than this, he yelled at himself.  
  
"You did a bloody good job out there today, Harry. You've made my last year here nearly perfect," Oliver said quietly, breaking the silence.  
  
Harry looked at him, incredulously, but his look soon became teasing.  
  
"Oh? Nearly perfect? And what would make it perfect, pray tell?"  
  
"Perfect N.E.W.T.S."  
  
Laughing quietly so as not to disturb the rest of the sleeping house, Harry looked back to the night sky.  
  
"Everyone's dream. Matched only by Percy's ability to actually pull it off. Don't worry, Oliver. I'm sure you'll do fine."  
  
"I wish I were as confident as you," the older boy sighed, "Then I wouldn't be sitting here awake, worrying about them."  
  
"Oh? And here I thought you just liked my company."  
  
"Everyone likes your company."  
  
"What?"  
  
Oliver looked Harry in the eye, surprise showing, "Surely you know? The whole of the Gryffindor house wants to be exclusively in your presence. Fred and George and Lee are jealous of Ron, and Hermione gets grief from many of the girls for being so close to you. Even Seamus, Dean, and Neville are targeted, just for being in your dorm."  
  
"You've got to be kidding me."  
  
"Nope. And it's not just because you're the Boy Who Lived, either. There's something about you, Harry, something only our Professors and the Slytherins can resist. It draws everyone to you; it makes everyone want to be around you. You know what to say, what to do, to make others feel good about themselves."  
  
"Not the Dursleys," Harry muttered.  
  
"Who?" Oliver asked.  
  
"The Dursleys. The Muggle family I live with. They're my only living relatives, or so I'm told. They don't like me at all."  
  
"Surely - "  
  
"No, trust me on this. Before I came here, I lived in a cupboard for nearly eleven full years. Why do you think I'm so skinny? I hardly got anything to eat, and I'm fairly certain my growth was stunted because of that. My cousin Dudley used to delight in beating me up. My aunt and Uncle told me my parents died in a car crash and that's how I got my scar, and they love to inform me that I'm a freak. I don't think I've ever even been hugged until today."  
  
Oliver stared at Harry in something that looked akin to awe.  
  
"And yet you're still good-natured."  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
The older boy chuckled lightly, "Anyone else would have grown to be anti-social, and a right pain in the ass. Most would at least be snobbish about their fame, or perhaps they would take pleasure in making other people's lives pure hell. But not you . it's rather amazing."  
  
"What is?"  
  
Oliver sighed, "That you turned out the way you did. Clear enough?"  
  
"Yeah," Harry mumbled, blushing slightly and glad of the cover of night.  
  
"You're dad was Seeker, you know, for the Gryffindor team, when he was at Hogwarts," the Keeper suddenly said.  
  
"Yeah. Hermione showed me the trophy when McGonagall first introduced me to you. I hadn't known before then, though."  
  
"So you know nothing of your parents?"  
  
"Not really. I know that they were rich, and I know what they look like. But other than that, everything's blank. Most times I think I'd like to just give up all my fame, just so I could have lived with them for longer than a year."  
  
Oliver blinked and looked hard at the younger boy in front of him, as if seeing him for the first time. He didn't think that Harry quite realized that he was entrusting him to holding all this information secret.  
  
"You said you'd never been hugged before today. Who hugged you?"  
  
"Er . well . " Harry stuttered, "You did."  
  
Oliver looked surprised, but nodded, "Yes, I suppose I did."  
  
"What do you mean by that?"  
  
"Well, to be honest, it was more of a glomp."  
  
"A what?"  
  
"A glomp. Er . no, I don't suppose you'd know what anime is, would you? Anyway, in anime, that is, Japanese cartoons, sometimes characters give what are known to the fans as 'glomps'. They're basically over- enthusiastic hugs, if you want to categorize them. So yes, I was hugging you."  
  
"I hear a 'but' in that sentence."  
  
"Perhaps. But I'm not going to finish that 'but'."  
  
Harry sighed, but grinned. "We all have some secrets, huh?"  
  
"More than you know," Oliver muttered, "Well, you bared your heart to me, so I'll let you know some of mine."  
  
The young Seeker perked up a little and shifted, settling his brilliant green eyes on Oliver to show that he was giving his full attention. The older boy chewed thoughtfully on the inside of his cheek before speaking.  
  
"My parents . they're both magic-folk, but they're both Muggle-born. They're very strict and devout Catholics. One of my secrets is that I don't really follow that religion, and they'd kill me if they knew. Another is . no, I don't know if you should know . " Oliver trailed off, looking anxiously around the room.  
  
"Know what?" Harry asked, intrigued, "What shouldn't I know?"  
  
"You'd hate me if I told you," the older boy muttered.  
  
"Oliver! Nothing in the world, aside from learning that you killed my parents, could make me hate you."  
  
The Keeper chuckled faintly, but made the mistake of looking into Harry's eyes then. Eyes that burned with sincerity and honesty, and a passion that Oliver didn't think many people possessed. He sighed inwardly.  
  
"All right . Harry . I'm . I'm . Idon'tlikegirls."  
  
Harry blinked, trying to process the jumble of words that Oliver had managed to spit out. Finally he realized what they meant, and his eyes opened wide, before he laughed.  
  
"Oh, Oliver Wood, you idiot! You think I'd hate you over something as stupid as that? The Dursleys were homophobes, but that never stopped me from saying 'whatever floats your boat'. Of course I don't hate you!"  
  
Oliver blinked as the words that had come from Harry's mouth were not the ones he had expected. A sudden look of total relief and friendship swept through Oliver's face, lighting up his brown eyes and making Harry all the more happy that he had said them. For the second time that day, he found himself wrapped in a hug by the older boy, and God only knew how much he enjoyed the feeling.  
  
"Thank you, Harry. You don't know how much that means to me. I mean . my own parents know . they hate me."  
  
Harry, on impulse, hugged Oliver a bit more tightly, trying to give him a sense of security like the one he was feeling. They stayed that way for a long time, warm and content and not daring to move. Suddenly Harry looked up at the sky.  
  
"Look! A shooting star!" he whispered.  
  
Oliver looked up quickly, then down at Harry, grinning at the awed look on the younger boy's face. Suddenly, something his mother used to tell him when he was much younger came rushing back.  
  
"You know, if you make a wish on a shooting star, and wish hard enough, it'll come true," he whispered.  
  
Harry, not looking away from the star, and not moving out of Oliver's embrace, nodded slightly to show that he had heard the Keeper. His eyes suddenly closed tightly so he could make his wish. Looking back to the star, Oliver made his wish, but kept his eyes fixedly on it as it sailed through the skies.  
  
I wish that my parents would accept me for who I am . I wish that I could feel as secure with them as I do with Harry.  
  
Harry opened his eyes soon after and looked up at the older boy, smiling gently. They stayed there together, not speaking, for a long time after that star disappeared. Oliver nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt Harry lean closer to, and practically melt into, him. Closer inspection proved that the boy had fallen asleep in his arms. He couldn't help but feel giddy at the thought of being so highly trusted by someone so that they would actually fall asleep in his arms. He also couldn't bring himself to wake Harry, so he scooped up the boy in his arms, noting how light he was, and carried him up to the dorm.  
  
Bed . bed . which is his bed . ah hah! The empty one!  
  
Pleased with himself, Oliver gently placed Harry onto his bed and tucked him in. He pulled off the glasses and stood there a moment, marveling at the boys, unnoticed by many, beauty. Finally he gave into temptation, sat down on the edge of the bed, and ran his fingers lightly through Harry's hair, relishing in the softness of it. Harry gave a contented sound and snuggled closer to his hand, and Oliver took the opportunity to run his fingers over the smooth skin of Harry's cheeks, memorizing the curves of his face.  
  
Suddenly, in his sleep, Harry reached out and grabbed Oliver's arm, holding it tightly to him. Eyes wide, he tried to pull away, but that would not be possible without waking the boy and he didn't have the heart to do that. Sighing heavily, the resigned himself to the fate of having to sleep in the same bed as Harry Potter. Lying down on top of the covers and pulling the curtains around the bed closed, he looked down at the said boy.  
  
"I don't know what you wished for, Harry," he whispered, "But I know mine has come true."  
  
He fell asleep listening to the sounds of Harry's even breathing. A bright green eye cracked open, looking intensely at the other figure in the bed before grinning wildly to himself. The owner of the eye fumbled for his wand.  
  
"Accio, cloak," he whispered.  
  
The invisibility cloak that lay by his bed obediently flew to him. First working the taller boy under the covers and then flinging the cloak over himself and the other boy in the bed, he snuggled close, and let himself drift off into the world of dreams.  
  
"Mine has come true, too."  
  
Star light; star bright, first star I see tonight  
  
Wish I may, wish I might, have this wish I wish tonight.  
  
I wish that I never have to leave this feeling of security . I wish that Oliver would stay with me, if only for the night.  
  
~End~  
  
Gah! This was written at 1:50 in the ruddy mornin' folks! Blame sugar, and having seen the Harry Potter movie for the third time. There's probably a lot of information I got wrong, and all the stuff about Oliver's parents is completely made up by me, which means that's DEFINITELY wrong, but works for the story.  
  
Oh, and please review! 


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